


Let Me Hear Your Body Talk

by kikaikitai



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Old Fic Repost, Pre-Series, Pre-War, Tactile, non-sticky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 23:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6728281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikaikitai/pseuds/kikaikitai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatronus just can't take his eyes off of Orion Pax. Or his servos. Pre-series. Pre-war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Hear Your Body Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Let Me Hear Your Body Talk中文版](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274053) by [assisapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/assisapple/pseuds/assisapple)



> As for my usual silly titles: the song Physical by Olivia Newton-John came on earlier today and it is sooo these two in this situation.
> 
>  
> 
> _There's nothing left to talk about_  
>  Unless it's horizontally  
> Let's get physical, physical  
> I wanna get physical  
> Let me hear your body talk
> 
>  
> 
> Old fic repost.

Even the brightest star in the sky didn't stand a chance against Orion Pax when he spoke. As he shared ideals and told of dreams, everything about him lit up.

Megatronus really only began to notice the second time they met. Perhaps it was the late hour. Or their shared cube of fuel. Or the low-quality light strips trimming the walls of the archivist's living quarters.

Orion spread servos as he explained something, azure optics gleaming. The gladiator tilted the last sip down his intake, just watching and listening. All the time they had been secretly corresponding, he hadn't expected this.

It was... cute.

Seduction among gladiators was hardly flirtatious or drawn out. If a mech's plating was pleasing to the optics, a proposal would be made, not uncommonly at the body shops, and often with a brash grabbing of pelvic array. Let the scraping begin.

But with Orion it was different. He _was_ pleasing to the optics; a noble sort of coloring to his frame, a modest build not quite meant for battle—but there was more to it than looks. Megatronus wanted to talk to him for hours. Share fuel. Buy him new lights. Get him a good seat at his next deathmatch.

And maybe sample a kiss from that bright little face.

His processor lit. Not a bad idea, actually. How would the archivist react? Nothing too sudden, then.

As Orion began a story about a friend in medical training, Megatronus lifted a claw to hook under the other's chin. The smaller mech stopped mid-word, optics blinking.

Megatronus smirked and leaned in, using his hold to incline Orion's helm up into a kiss. He held it there in silence, and lip plates scraped softly when the gladiator pulled away.

Orion stared, mouth still open. Suddenly, his engine revved and the archivist nearly jumped. Megatronus almost laughed.

"Apologies, Orion. Continue your story." Megatronus released his chin, but kept servo almost hovering over the mech's shoulder.

Orion was still staring, field all a flutter.

"Don't want to tell it anymore?"

Orion released a ventilation he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "No," he admitted, optics cutting to the hand on him.

Megatronus read him easily and slid his servo back up. Another little tilt of the chin was all it took for Orion's gaze to melt. If he hadn't been a mech of impressive control, Megatronus's processor would have scrambled at the sight.

This was a pleasant surprise. The at first soft-spoken but passionate little librarian wasn't a prude.

Megatronus felt a hand on his knee, digits digging to get his attention. The gladiator hummed low in his throat, amused. "More?"

"Please."

Fast response. And so polite. So like him.

He took the smaller mech's mouth again. Orion was enthusiastic and pushed up, nearly knocking their helms together in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Megatronus chuckled and indulged, glossa slipping in and tasting their recent refueling.

Orion's fans activated in a zealous kick, though it was hardly lustful alone. Primus, there was something about him. He was active and excited, but still managed to be immaculate in his inexperienced kisses and the way he squeezed his optics shut. It was far from the rough scraping of other gladiators or the pitched up moans of groupies.

Megatronus's audio receptors detected a stutter from the smaller mech's vents, and he slowly pulled away (though Orion followed with a desperate parting kiss, not wanting to stop). The little mech would tire out his vents and pass out if they didn't take a break. Blue optics yielded, blinking again, and Megatronus couldn't help smirking.

A servo rested on Orion's thigh gently, digits rubbing over a plate seam. Megatronus's energy field smoothed over the other mech, not a needy buzz but just a continuous hum.

Orion shifted his legs, pelvic array shining as light played over it.

"Megatronus."

Maybe his vents would be okay. Their mouths met again, and the gladiator's thrusters almost ignited at the sound of a charged little gasp. Fingers pressed into the seams this time, and Orion nearly flailed, thrusting his chassis forward for attention, saying please again with his body.

Megatronus grunted in response before his hand just about slammed up to a thigh joint where he knew a sensitive connector would be. The gladiator paused, deepening a hard kiss before his fingers teased an exposed fluid line.

Orion shuddered hard, like a newbuild—Was this his first time with another mech?

"More—please—" Orion vocalized in static, trying to bite Megatronus on the mouthplate but missing and grazing facial armor.

The large mech was amused by both the second polite request and the failed kiss. He held back a laugh and then scraped a bit sharply on the raw underside of a plate.

Orion keened and arched deeply. Primus. Megatronus needed to control himself or he'd pin Orion and fill him with every bit of charge he had. That sounded amazing at the moment, but with a mech like this he would prefer to wait. Make a real night out of it.

The archivist scrambled a bit on the furniture, wanting more touches and kisses. Megatronus stilled him, resting their helms together. "Orion," he said quietly, just to calm his partner. Slowly he shifted Orion, lifting a leg to drape over his thighs. This allowed his frame to remain open, legs apart and easy for Megatronus to find gaps and wires. Orion was pleased to find they could still kiss this way, and almost immediately went back in for more.

Megatronus enjoyed it as well, but right now he wanted to see if he could coax more noise from the naturally quiet mech.

Again he sought out gaps and his other hand reached behind Orion to stroke dorsal plates. He had to find a good spot. A delicate sensor or cable. Hm. Well, he knew of one.

A hand smoothed back to Orion's front and stopped over a unique little panel covering.

Orion froze mid-osculation, optics blinkering.

Megatronus completed the kiss and pulled back to look reassuringly into those optics. "It's alright," he vocalized. He let his field tickle now soothingly. It wasn't his intention to interface, but he did know he could do some good with that particular cable. As long as Orion let him.

"I..." Orion looked down at the hand and his mouthplate became thin. "Yes. Please."

The panel slid open quietly and Orion hid his face in Megatronus's shoulder armor. The gladiator had no doubts now about this being a new experience for him. He would make it a good one.

"It's alright," Megatronus repeated. Very, very slowly he uncoiled the little cable just enough to be able to hold the end in his fingertips.

He gave the mech a moment to relax and then squeezed the jacketed tip.

Orion wailed, frame bucking—Megatronus had anticipated this and used his free hand to steady him against the furniture.

His legs were already in a tremor and his fans screamed, energy field flaring like a dying star.

Megatronus gave them both a moment to collect themselves. His free hand stroked an abdominal plate. Then he gave another squeeze.

And there was another cry, much louder.

The gladiator gnashed his sharp dentae. Sometimes the basics were even hotter than plugging in. He couldn't recall the last time he'd enjoyed something simple like this.

He turned the cable in his hand and ran a thumb over the defenseless metal tip three times.

"Ahh, M-Mega—" Orion ex-vented hotly against his shoulder, cable crackling with pleasure.

Megatronus swore subvocally and began in a rhythm. Compress, roll between fingers, tease the metal, make sure Orion doesn't fall off of the couch. He was relentless, so like a gladiator.

Orion's cries were choked as if coming from him out of his control. His helm turned from side to side. Sometimes he pressed his faceplate into Megatronus and uttered some distorted plea. Ventilations were deep, and then fast, and then withheld and then suppressed as plating rose and contracted with each powerful crackle of pleasure.

Megatronus's field easily overpowered the archivist's, not even giving him a chance to reciprocate. Not that he could for all his shaking and moaning.

He wrapped the cable around a few fingers and kept tweaking it, letting his claws dig under Orion's chassis plates. He couldn't help it and roughly played with a few colorful wires.

Heat burst from Orion's frame, warnings pinging him annoyingly. "I—M-Megatronus, I will—"

Megatronus growled deep in his chest and squeezed the cable hard.

Orion seized up against him, hands scrabbling for something to hold on to, processor whiting out as overload washed over him. Blue licks of energy leapt about his frame, grating and transferring to Megatronus in static. Mouth hung open in a new nano-kliks of silence before vocalizer and processor connected as he cried his pleasure to the ceiling.

Megatronus's optics locked on him, taking in every spasm and arc of energy, system screaming for a connection. He pushed the suggestions down and just focused on Orion.

Shaking Orion. Crying Orion. And spent Orion.

Megatronus caught his back before he lost balance and carefully lowered him down.

And—was immediately stunned by the sight of the smaller mech splayed out on the furniture with an entirely endearing smile upon his faceplate.

He was going to have a hell of a hard time focusing on the next day's match.

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel is [ Only If You'll Be Mine](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6739165).


End file.
